The Menagerie #2

by Tui T. Sutherland

  “Don’t get too excited, fire-breath. The SNAPA agents will say you could have eaten the sheep and Pelly,” Zoe pointed out. “This doesn’t prove your innocence, I’m afraid.”

  “But it might help us find the real killer,” said Logan. “And this isn’t the first suspicious thing. I’ve been thinking about how the griffins got out of the Menagerie. There was that mysterious hole in the river grate. I think someone cut that hole, probably hoping the griffin cubs would escape that way.”

  “Stop,” Zoe said, putting her hands over her ears. “Why would anyone do that to us? That’s—that’s sabotage. Like they want us to get shut down.”

  “Exactly,” said Logan. “And most likely that same someone killed Pelly. So now the question is . . . who hates you that much?”

  FIFTEEN

  Logan was a little distracted during dinner with Dad Monday night. It was hard to focus on pork chops and corn cakes when he really wanted to get back to the Menagerie and keep looking for clues.

  “So,” Logan’s dad said. “Tell me about your day.”

  Hmm, Logan thought. I met a family of werecreatures? I had a nice chat with a dragon? I saved my school librarian from getting her memory wiped? We glitter bombed a werewolf?

  He settled for, “I ate lunch with Blue.”

  “And Zoe?” his dad asked, a little too quickly.

  Logan raised his eyebrows at him. “And Zoe.”

  “Have you, uh—have you met her parents?” Dad asked, poking his pork chop with his fork as if he didn’t really care about the answer, but Logan got the feeling he did.

  What do you know, Dad?

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  “So they’ve . . . met you.”

  “That’s generally how it works.” There was a pause. And they recognized me, and Zoe told me everything, Logan thought. Is that what you’re wondering? Just ask me, Dad. Finally he added, “They’re really nice.”

  “Hmm,” Dad said, with a hint of skepticism in his voice.

  “I bet Mom would like them,” Logan said boldly. He knew for a fact that his mom had liked them; according to Zoe’s stories about Logan’s mom, she’d been a regular visitor to the Menagerie, bringing them new mythical creatures at least once or twice a year. So if you know that, Dad, maybe now would be a good time to come clean. Why else are we in Xanadu? Mom must have told you about this Menagerie. But you haven’t gone to talk to the Kahns, or Zoe would have mentioned it.

  “Your mom is usually a pretty good judge of character,” Dad said noncommittally.

  He doesn’t trust the Kahns, Logan realized suddenly. Maybe he thinks they know what happened to Mom.

  Either that, or he doesn’t know anything and I’m being paranoid.

  “Do they have any interesting collections?” Dad blurted. “Like silver? Maybe a silver door or silver knives or—” He trailed off. “Never mind.”

  “Dad, what on earth are you talking about?” Logan asked. Silver? Was his dad worried about werewolves? Did he think werewolves had taken Mom?

  “Nothing,” said Logan’s dad. “Just something someone said about the Kahns. Maybe I heard him wrong.”

  Logan felt like they were each having a totally different conversation inside their heads than the one happening out loud. It made him want to throw corn cakes at his dad until the truth tumbled out of his mouth.

  Maybe if I just ask the right question.

  “Hey, what was Mom doing on her last trip?” he asked. “Do you know?”

  Dad looked up and studied him with serious dark eyes. “Her normal business stuff,” he said after a minute. “Why?”

  “Normal business stuff like what?”

  “Logan,” Dad said, putting down his knife and fork. “Listen. I understand.”

  Logan held his breath. Do you? Is this it? Time for the truth?

  “I miss her, too.” Dad reached across the table and patted Logan’s hand. “For now we have to carry on just the two of us, okay? Maybe one day we’ll find out more about where she went and what she’s doing now. I feel like we will.”

  Logan looked down at his plate, feeling a rush of disappointment. “I hope so,” he said. “I’m going to go finish my homework.” He got up, leaving most of his dinner uneaten, and went to his room.

  Later that night, he lay in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about Mom. Purrsimmon landed on his chest and swished her tail in his face as she sauntered down to settle between his feet. Her eyes slid shut and in that irritating, semimagical way cats have, she was out almost immediately. Logan, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to quiet his brain.

  Mom, where are you?

  An hour later, the only part of him that had fallen asleep was his foot. He tried to inch it out from under the cat.

  “Mrreow!” Purrsimmon protested. She sat up and glared at him.

  “Sorry, Purrs,” he said. The curtains at his window shifted in the breeze, and he pulled the blankets higher. Soon he’d have to start shutting the window at night, which would give Purrsimmon a whole new thing to be mad about.

  Is Mom thinking about me right now? Is she okay?

  She’d gone looking for a Chinese dragon for the Kahns’ Menagerie.

  She’d sent Logan and Dad a postcard saying good-bye. A postcard postmarked from Cheyenne, Wyoming.

  And then she’d disappeared, along with the dragon.

  Or actually, it was the other way around, wasn’t it? She’d disappeared, and then she’d sent the postcard.

  So she couldn’t be dead. Dead people don’t send postcards.

  Maybe someone made her send it.

  Logan hesitated, then reached over and grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand. He ducked under the covers and dialed Zoe’s number. He didn’t think she’d be awake, but maybe hearing her voice on her voice mail message would help him think about something else.

  “Hey,” Zoe answered sleepily.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said. “I thought your phone would be off.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m just lying here worrying about why someone would sabotage the Menagerie.”

  “I can’t sleep, either,” he said. He listened to her breathing for a moment. “Zoe. What if the same person also took my mom? What if kidnapping her and the Chinese dragon was part of the same plan to shut you guys down?”

  Silence.

  “Zoe?”

  “I had the same thought,” she said. “But I didn’t want to freak you out.”

  “Always tell me everything,” he said. “Any thought you have about where she might be or what might have happened. You can’t freak me out more than I already am.”

  “All right, I promise,” she said. “As soon as this trial is over, we’ll focus on finding her, okay?”

  Logan had no idea how they would begin to do that.

  “I’d better go,” Zoe whispered. “Keiko is making extra-grumpy noises in her sleep.”

  “Okay,” Logan whispered back. “See you tomorrow.”

  Tuesday at lunch, Logan was the first one to get to the courtyard, and he sat at the stone table for a few minutes by himself, worrying, even though he knew he was being stupid, that Zoe and Blue had decided to sit somewhere else. So it was almost funny when Blue, then Zoe, then Marco, and then, almost immediately, Jasmin descended on the table like a bunch of dragons coming in to land.

  Jasmin gave Marco a half smile and squished herself next to Blue, wrapping her hands in her autumn-leaf-colored scarf and rubbing them together. “It’s so cold out here! Blue, are you sure you don’t want to sit inside with me?”

  “I’m all right,” Blue said in the nicest possible way. “I don’t get cold. But thanks.”

  “Suit yourself,” Jasmin said with a shrug. “Question for you, though. Why is there a sixth grader going around telling people that she’s coming to my Halloween party on Friday?”

  “Oh, Keiko,” said Blue. “Sorry, I forgot to check with you.” He shot Logan a wicked grin. “Logan really
wanted me to invite her.”

  “What?” Logan nearly sprayed turkey sandwich all over the table.

  “Aww, cute,” Jasmin said, looking straight at Logan for the first time. She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Okay, then I’ll allow it. The other thing is that I finished The Hunger Games and we are so going as Katniss and Peeta! I definitely have a bow and arrow somewhere. I’ll figure out your part of it, don’t worry.”

  “Um,” said Blue.

  “Brrr! I’m going inside. See you guys later.” Jasmin touched Blue’s shoulder again, and this time she graced Marco and Logan with a smile before she hurried away.

  “Blue!” Logan exploded as soon as she was gone.

  “What?” Blue said, feigning innocence. “What’s that I hear? Oh, it’s the beautiful sound of retribution. That’s right. Snap.”

  “But I’m Keiko’s soul mate,” Marco said. He stood up, started rolling up his sleeves, and pointed at Logan. “We’re doing this right now.”

  “Doing what?” Logan asked, confused.

  “You’d better bring your arms of fury, because I will be battling with the strength of a hundred roosters, and that’s—stop laughing,” he said to Blue. “Roosters are stronger than you think. Well, they have claws and beaks. Hey, I bet you wouldn’t want to fight one.”

  “I’m not going to fight you!” Logan said.

  “I’m not going to fight you, either,” said Marco. “I’m going to arm wrestle you, and I’m going to crush you, and then I’m going to dance in a circle like a World Wrestling champ, and then you are going to bow out like a gentleman and leave Keiko to me.”

  “Oh, brother,” Zoe said, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Marco, you are in so, so, so much trouble if you think that approach is going to work with her.”

  “Blue was joking,” Logan said with a fierce look at his friend, who was laughing so hard he’d nearly fallen off the bench. “I am not at all interested in Keiko. Frankly, she is terrifying.”

  “Great!” Marco said, thumping Logan cheerfully on the back. “That is great, great news. Now you can stay my friend instead of becoming my arch nemesis.”

  “Except now the entire school will think I like Keiko,” Logan said. “Thanks a lot, Blue.”

  “They say let the punishment fit the crime,” Blue observed.

  “The good news is that now Jasmin will be nicer to you,” Zoe pointed out. “Because you’ve become gossip-worthy, and therefore interesting. Especially since it means you’re not, um . . . not with me.” They had run into Jasmin while they were together on Saturday, trying to smuggle a griffin cub out of the toy store, and Logan had let her think he was dating Zoe so they could get away faster.

  “Man, she is going to have the weirdest impression of me,” he said.

  “So what happened with the glitter bomb?” Marco asked. The others told him about Matthew’s reaction and Agent Runcible and the three weeks of roc nest cleaning and hellhound walking and mapinguari baths that Zoe would have to do as punishment.

  “I’m not sure I ever want to meet this mapinguari,” Logan said to Zoe.

  “You don’t,” she agreed. “He’s a big kind of sloth thing who smells awful. Like basilisk-level awful. And baths don’t help him at all; I’m not sure why my mom insists on them.” She shot a glare at Blue. “Of course Prince Blue over here didn’t get in any trouble, even though his mom now knows we snuck out into the woods Sunday night.”

  “I got a very stern talking-to,” Blue said calmly.

  “Injustice,” Zoe said. “I live with it every day. Oh, and the worst part? Keiko totally knew it was Agent Runcible all along. She was hoping I’d get in trouble somehow for snooping around after him, although naturally I exceeded her wildest expectations. When I got up to our room last night, she was as smug as a fox who’s eaten all the chickens.”

  “HEY!” Marco objected. “I’m sitting right here!”

  “Sorry.” Zoe rubbed her temples. “And Mom and Dad said no crazy investigating today. I have to go right home for the voir dire.”

  “The what?” Marco asked.

  “Jury selection.” Zoe stabbed her fork into her salad and sent a cherry tomato rolling onto the ground. “It’s supposed to be six of Scratch’s ‘peers,’ meaning other creatures who can talk. Blue, can you round up a few merfolk who might be sympathetic to Scratch? Our other choices include the unicorns, the other two dragons, the phoenix, the griffins . . .”

  “Whoa,” said Marco. “I’m in.”

  “I thought you wanted to avoid SNAPA,” Logan reminded him.

  “Yeah, but unicorns and dragons and griffins? This I gotta see. Besides, one of the agents is a werewolf, so it’s like we’re practically kindred spirits, right?”

  “You haven’t met many other werecreatures, have you?” Zoe said to him.

  “Just my family,” said Marco. “But hey, they can’t all be that bad. Ha-ha-ha!”

  “The agents will probably be too busy to pay much attention to him,” Blue offered.

  “True,” Zoe said. “All right. We’ll all go watch the voir dire after school. I’ll tell Dad to prepare Firebella and Clawdius so they don’t sound the alarm.”

  “Awesome,” Marco said. He leaned across the table and punched Logan’s shoulder lightly. “Dibs on sitting next to Keiko.”

  “All right, everyone, settle down!” Mrs. Kahn raised her voice to carry over the hubbub in front of Mooncrusher’s hut.

  The yeti lived in a kind of sturdy tentlike structure—a yurt, Zoe called it—that Logan guessed he’d built himself. It was made of wood and covered in woven white fur that seemed to be his own. It sat on a little island of ice, and outside the yurt was a glittering garden of ice sculptures, most of them mini-yetis. Some of them even wore giant sunglasses like Mooncrusher’s.

  The ice ended at a low concrete wall, and on the other side was a grassy area, currently full of milling creatures and people. Captain Fuzzbutt was sprawled on the ice in front of the yurt’s door, peeking over the wall at the tables the SNAPA agents were setting up with Mr. and Mrs. Kahn. Beside the mammoth, the yeti stood with his arms folded, glaring at anyone who came too close to his territory.

  As Logan, Zoe, and Marco came up from the lake path, one of the griffins—Riff, the one with black feathers—accidentally stepped on Clawdius’s tail. The silver dragon roared indignantly, huffing out a small burst of flame that nearly set the top of Mooncrusher’s yurt on fire.

  “BLAAAAARGH!” Mooncrusher shouted, waving his furry fists.

  “Not destined for long life is he who dares to blaargh, Clawdius,” growled the dragon.

  “Calm down, both of you,” Mrs. Kahn ordered. She glanced at the wand in her hand, as if double-checking that the chips were working on both Clawdius and Firebella. Zoe said the range had been extended to allow them to leave the mountain caves, so the voir dire could take place out of Scratch’s hearing, but the Kahns held electric shock wands and were keeping the two dragons on a short leash.

  Marco grabbed Logan’s arm and shook it. “DRAGONS!” he whispered loudly. “Actual dragons!”

  “I know,” Logan whispered back with a grin.

  Agent Runcible and Agent Dantes stepped back from the tables and nodded at Mrs. Kahn, who raised her hands to get everyone’s attention.

  Just as it started to get quiet, the roc let out a piercing shriek from inside the Aviary. The two unicorns bolted out of the crowd and started galloping in a panicked circle.

  “She’s going to eat us!” bellowed Charlemagne.

  “Who will protect us?” cried Cleopatra. “Not these worthless serfs who allow beautiful creatures to be eaten under their very noses! Alack the day!”

  “Unicorns,” Zoe muttered under her breath. She leaned toward Logan and Marco. “Rocs used to eat unicorns, but of course Aliya hasn’t had anything like a unicorn in centuries. Those two are totally acting up to get SNAPA sympathy. I could strangle them.”

  “Unicorns,” Marco hissed to Logan. “Actual unicorns.�
��

  “I know,” Logan said, trying not to laugh. He understood exactly how Marco felt.

  Still shouting with alarm, Cleopatra vaulted over the concrete wall, slipped on the ice, and skidded into Mooncrusher’s meticulously maintained ice sculpture garden. Her hoof struck one of Mooncrusher’s mini-yetis and splintered the ice.

  “BLAAAARRRRRRRGH!!!” Mooncrusher howled, flying across the enclosure. He roared at Cleopatra until she jumped back over the wall and trotted away with her nose in the air. Then he crouched and patted at the sculpture with his large, furry paws as though it was his own child.

  Oh, thought Logan. If he’d thought it was lonely sitting at lunch with no friends for two months, he could only imagine what life was like for the only yeti in Wyoming.

  “There he is!” Zoe exclaimed, pointing as Blue came running up from the lake. He was followed by three merpeople: two adults and the teenage mermaid who Logan had met when he first found out about Blue. Her name was something like Sapphire, he thought. She was wearing barely enough clothes to be considered dressed—a skimpy green tank top, short navy shorts, and gold flip-flops—but she didn’t seem at all affected by the cold. The mermaid tossed her long blond hair, smirked at Zoe, and sauntered over to the crowd of mythical creatures.

  “Really, Blue? That’s the best you could do?” Zoe asked.

  “I tried,” Blue said, giving her a helpless shrug. “Nobody else would even consider coming ashore for jury duty. There’s a rumor going around that if the Menagerie gets shut down, Dad and the rest of us will be relocated to the Hawaiian refuge. It’s hard to motivate merfolk when tropical waters are on the table.”

  “But that’s not even true!” Zoe shook her head in dismay. “We have no idea where you guys might end up!”

  “I know, but once they get an idea in their heads . . .” Blue trailed off as though uncomfortable criticizing merpeople.

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Well, thank you for trying.”

  “What about Nero?” Logan asked. “He’d qualify for the jury, wouldn’t he? Has anyone been able to ask him about the night of Pelly’s murder yet?”